


Cold bacon and bright smiles

by grimmfairy



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, hungover mick, mick is a white knight when he's drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmfairy/pseuds/grimmfairy
Summary: Mick Rory wakes up in a stranger's apartment with a monster hangover and no memory of the night before. Good thing there's a cute little thing named Barry there to remind him of his heroics.





	

It's rare that Mick gets himself drunk enough to have a blackout hangover. Usually, he's hampered by his high tolerance to alcohol and low tolerance for the low life of the night that picks a fight with him trying to make a name for themselves. Sometimes he's hampered by a pretty face and an invitation. One time (just once), he was hampered by a small fire that he may or may not have started. But on the rare occasion that he wakes with a pounding headache, a furry mouth, and no memory of how he got back to his current residence, it's usually with a few bruises and some busted knuckles. 

Mick never wakes to the smell of bacon. Or a mug of coffee being placed in front of him even as he's just starting to remember how to move his muscles enough to open his eyes and then immediately close them against the light. And never on a sofa this comfortable.

 _This is not my couch_ , Mick realized. The thought was accompanied by a particularly sharp pain in his temples.

"Um...good morning?" A hesitant, if amused, voice said from somewhere above him. Mick managed to force his eyes open again, blinking as the light became more manageable. As his vision cleared, he located to source of the voice standing on the other side of a medium-sized coffee table. Brown hair, greenish eyes, and pale skin caught his attention. His mystery host looked young.

"Oh god, please tell me you're over twenty-one," Mick managed to say as he levered himself into a sitting position. A wave of nausea followed the movement, and Mick remained still until it passed. His knuckles were bruised, he realized. Ah, a fight then.

"Yeah, I'm twenty-six," The man replied, a more wary edge to his tone. "Just so you know, I work for the police."

"What's your name?"

"Barry. Barry Allen. Last night you said your name was Mick?" Barry said, his voice tilting up a bit as if to confirm what Mick had told him the night before.

"What happened last night?" Mick asked, rubbing his temples. The kid looked too innocent to poison him, so he drained the mug of coffee that he assumed was for him.

"Well...I was walking home from work because I missed the last train, and some guys started hassling me," Barry said.

"Was I..?" Mick asked, waving vaguely between them. It didn't sound like him to pick on someone so scrawny. Barry shook his head.

"No, you uh, you kind of...punched their leader? And then they ran off," Barry said. He indicated that Mick should follow him to the kitchen and take a seat at the little table, which he did as Barry continued. "Then you insisted on walking me the rest of the way home."

"Why didn't I leave?" Mick asked, gratefully accepting a refill of coffee. His head was still pounding, but at least the coffee would take effect soon. Leonard was going to tease him for going soft again.

"You passed out in the doorway, and I didn't think it was fair to call the police since you helped me out," Barry replied. "I managed to rouse you enough to get you on the sofa before you were really gone."

Mick sighed. His white knight side really came out when he was drunk, though usually he didn't go so far as to walk anyone home. Though the more he looked at Barry, his doe-eyes and his slim runner's body, he could see why he made an exception. The kid was earnest and honest, and prettier than most of the people Mick spent his time with (male or female). God he was such a sucker for a damsel in distress.

"Sorry 'bout that," Mick grunted. 

"It's fine," Barry reassured him, finally taking a seat across from him. "I mean, you did me a favor."

"I suppose saving your ass is a favor."

"Well, yeah, that. And I didn't have to explain a black eye to my cop foster-dad," Barry added. "He can be a little...intense."

Mick nodded, and proceeded to sit there awkwardly drinking coffee with Barry. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, necessarily, but it had an odd heaviness. Mick wondered whether a guy like Barry would be interested in him, as a friend or something more. It was hard to tell nowadays who was into who. 

"I should get going," Mick said, a bit reluctantly. Barry turned to him.

"You know, you could stay. For breakfast, I mean," Barry said. "I was just about to eat when you woke up, so the bacon might be cold but I could make some more?"

"Bacon is always good," Mick said, sliding back into his seat. Barry grinned at him.

"Do you want some more coffee, or do you think you could stomach some toast too?"

Mick's hangover was looking more and more like a blessing if it could make someone smile at him like that.

"Whatever you're having is fine."


End file.
